


Truth Be Told

by heartsandmuses



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, De-Serumed Steve Rogers, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecure Steve Rogers, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsandmuses/pseuds/heartsandmuses
Summary: Tony didn’t believe in signs. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, regardless of whether or not the universe seemed to approve. Which was a good thing, really, because if hedidbelieve in signs, there would be no doubt in his mind that fate or the cosmos or whatever cruel, eldritch god was ruling his life absolutely did not want him to propose to Steve.No matter what Tony planned, something, somehow, always seemed to get in his way. Either it was an Avengers alert (which happened about two weeks ago), or a sudden downpour over midtown Manhattan (one week ago), or Steve suddenly being de-serumed (four days ago), or, well—“A truth serum.”(Right now.)





	Truth Be Told

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cap Iron Man Community](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cap+Iron+Man+Community).



> Of all the wonderful community prompts collected for the Cap-IM Holiday Exchange, the ones I tried to fill were: 1) _"Of course I'll marry you, what kind of ridiculous question—"_ , 2) _sleep deprived Tony_ , and 3) _every morning when i wake up, i think that today might be the day that you leave me. i know it's irrational, but i can't turn it off._ Hope you enjoy!

Tony didn’t believe in signs. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, regardless of whether or not the universe seemed to approve. Which was a good thing, really, because if he _did_ believe in signs, there would be no doubt in his mind that fate or the cosmos or whatever cruel, eldritch god was ruling his life absolutely did not want him to propose to Steve.

He’d been ready to, more than once, over the course of the past month. He’d taken the time to draft a heartfelt speech, writing and rewriting and memorizing it whenever he had a moment to himself; he’d forged a ring that would hold up even if Steve had to use his shield while wearing it; he’d booked reservations at all of Steve’s favourite restaurants, arranged for hot air balloon rides, cooked a homemade dinner on more than one occasion.

But no matter what Tony planned, something, somehow, always seemed to get in his way. Either it was an Avengers alert (which happened about two weeks ago), or a sudden downpour over midtown Manhattan (one week ago), or Steve suddenly being de-serumed (four days ago), or, well—

“A truth serum.”

(Right now.)

“A truth serum,” Tony repeated dryly, as he looked from the half-empty mug of what he’d assumed was Irish coffee, to the flask sitting on the counter, to the expression on Scott’s face, growing increasingly concerned. Now, to be fair, Tony knew that he was prone to being more reckless and idiotic than usual when he’d been holed up in the lab for over fifty consecutive hours, but, at least this time around, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t the one at fault here. “You spiked my coffee with a _truth serum?_ ”

“Well, _technically_ ,” Scott said, and Tony didn’t even have to hear the rest of the sentence to know that he wasn’t going to like it, “ _you_ spiked your coffee with a truth serum.” He paused. “Actually, it was probably the equivalent of three truth serums, in total. I don’t know if that means it’ll be three times as strong, or if it’ll just last three times as long, but, yeah, it’s not good, either way.”

Tony shot him an incredulous look.

“Which is why I wrote a note!”

Reaching over to ease the flask out of Tony’s grip, and looking for all the world like he was scared of getting his hand bitten off in the process, Scott flipped it over to reveal that the other side had been taped over and Sharpied.

**DO NOT DRINK!!!**

It was even underlined. Three times.

And that— Really, that was an ambiguous warning at best. For one thing, there was not a single mention of the what exactly the contents of the flask contained, and so, naturally, Tony had assumed that a) it was low-shelf liquor, and b) Scott just wanted it for himself. He was about to say all that, too, along with the fact that he couldn’t be blamed for apparently being the only one here with even a lick of common sense, but all the sleep deprivation must’ve disconnected his mouth from his brain, because what came out instead was an exasperated, “I— Yeah, Lang, I can see that. That’s not— I mean— _How?_ ”  

Thankfully, Scott seemed to know what he was getting at. “Yeah, so, um, funny story, actually,” he said, flashing a smile. “Hope and I, we got these off some bad guys we were fighting the other day, and for some reason they carried them around in syringes, just ready to go, y’know? Which doesn’t really make for easy travel, so I dumped them all into Hank’s flask instead, and then I figured you might be interested, for Avengers purposes, and so I was about to give it to you and then—”

“I drank it.”

“You drank it, yeah.”

There was still about a quarter of the cup of coffee left, and Tony resisted the urge to say _fuck it_ and down the rest. It probably wouldn’t even matter, another couple sips of truth serum when he already had about three doses of the stuff — more importantly, though, caffeine was still caffeine, and at this point, Tony would take what he could get. “You said it’s supposed to be injected, not ingested, right?” he pointed out, and, with an impressive show of self-restraint, poured the last of the coffee-serum concoction into the sink and rinsed out the mug. “Maybe it won’t even work.”

It was a long shot, sure, but he could still hold out hope — as little as he had.

Scott wasn’t nearly as optimistic. “Right,” he replied, dubiously, looking Tony up and down like he expected to see some kind of transformation take place before his very eyes. “Uh, how are you feeling, anyway?”

Even without the truth serum apparently running through his system, Tony wouldn’t know how to answer that. He was tired and numb from being in the lab for so long, his vision starting to blur at the edges, his coordination off, his shoulders stiff from being hunched over his desk. His left leg had fallen asleep sometime during the conversation, the static, pins-and-needles feeling shooting up his calf whenever he so much as rolled his ankle. There was a crick in his neck that he hadn’t even noticed until now.

 _I feel fine_ , was on the tip of his tongue, but as soon as Tony opened his mouth, the words that flew out instead were, “Like shit. I haven’t slept in days, and I’m pretty sure my body is trying to knock me out so it can finally have some rest.” Tony paused, replaying that in his mind once more to figure out if he’d actually said that. The look on Scott’s face told him that he probably did. “Usually I wouldn’t admit that out loud,” he added, the words escaping him of their own volition. “Or that.”

“Huh,” Scott said, after a moment. “I guess it really did work.”

 _No, it didn’t_ , Tony wanted to say. _It couldn’t have_. His mouth, however, had different ideas, and, like a marionette being controlled by a wicked puppeteer, he was helpless to reply, “I guess so.”

Tony clamped his mouth shut, only unclenching his teeth after a few seconds had gone by and he didn’t blurt out anything else. Ridiculously, his first thought on the matter was, _I don’t have time for this_. He knew he should’ve been more worried about the whole thing — about what he would do if a supervillain broke in and demanded that he give step-by-step instructions on how to build a Jericho missile, or if someone even jokingly asked for all the intelligence Tony may or may not have been privy to when he’d hacked into the Pentagon in high school.

But between trying to get Steve back to normal, assuring his sudden anxieties on the situation, and planning a proposal for the guy, Tony’s plate was already so full it was pretty much overflowing, and, as insane as it was, waiting for a truth serum to be flushed out of his system wasn’t even near the top of his priority list.

This had already wasted about ten minutes of his precious time, and Tony didn’t want to risk staying here, in the fear that he might accidentally give away some of his most confidential secrets. Not that he kept many from the team, not after they’d slowly wormed their way through the cracks in what used to be a near-impenetrable armour, but still. Some things he liked to keep close to his chest.

Especially around someone like Scott, whose loose lips had ruined surprise parties and Christmas presents on more than one occasion. Trusting him to keep something much more major to himself—something on the scale of a proposal, perhaps—was just asking for trouble.

So, as Scott turned around to rummage through the contents of the fridge, Tony took the opportunity to make a break for it, quietly slipping out of the kitchen. He almost pulled it off too, but just as he reached the doorway, Scott looked up, a carton of two-day-old chow mein in hand, and asked, “Do you mind if I finish off these— Oh, hey, where are you going?”

“To the lab,” Tony answered, without even stopping. Just because he had to answer honestly didn’t mean that Scott had to hear him. “Partly because Bruce and I need to figure out this whole Cap-getting-deserumed thing, and partly because I want to hide from everyone else so I don’t accidentally spill the beans on my plan to propose to Steve.”

“ _What?_ ”  

Tony poked his head back into the kitchen, doing his best to suppress a sigh. “Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey are the only other people who know about that. But out of everyone, you’re the only one I don’t actually trust to keep a secret, so just—” Tony wagged a finger at him, trying to be as menacing as possible, under the circumstances “—do not say a single word about it to anybody, okay? Especially Steve. Otherwise I’m not gonna bankroll your trip to Disneyland for Cassie’s birthday.” It took less than a second before he was forced to concede, “Okay, that’s not true, but I am going to fly you in coach instead of first class.”

Tony must’ve looked just about as drained and anxious as he felt, because Scott offered a smile that was a little too sympathetic. “Hey, relax,” he assured, pawing around the cutlery drawer for a pair of chopsticks. “These lips? Fort Knox. I promise I won’t tell anybody.”

“Yeah, I don’t entirely believe you,” Tony admitted slowly, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly in suspicion, “but I’m gonna leave it, because I should really go before I say anything else.”

  
***

Bruce and Tony, after over two straight days of being cooped up in the lab, had pretty much exhausted every lead they had so far on figuring out the super-soldier serum, from rooting around in Howard’s old journals to hacking into encrypted SHIELD files to analyzing blood samples. Their next best bet was to wait for Thor to get some answers out of his idiot brother—because _of course_ this was Loki’s doing—and while that particular problem was tabled for now, Tony and Bruce turned their attention elsewhere.

Namely, the effects of the truth serum.

Being the professional and world-renowned academics they were, they ran a number of tests on Tony to figure out its extent and limitations, and within twenty minutes they’d concluded that Tony had something of a _Liar Liar_ situation on his hands.

Well, not quite as bad. But definitely not anything he could suppress either, no matter how hard he tried.

The facts were these: Tony couldn’t outright lie, which was a given — but he also couldn’t write down anything dishonest either, couldn’t withhold information if he was being asked about it directly, couldn’t even ask questions of his own if he was a hundred percent sure the person would answer falsely. Whenever he so much as tried, the truth would fly out of his mouth anyway, his tongue loose but his inhibitions intact, and it felt like the worst parts of being drunk. It was almost as if he were being compelled to speak more, too, to speak candidly, even when he didn’t have to. It had taken him aback, at first, and Tony’s surprise only succeeded in letting even more secrets slip through; but the more he got used to it, to the strange, dizzying feeling of the truth serum pumping through his veins, the easier it was to reel himself back in.

Although, not without first admitting to Bruce that, once, in college, he’d drank an entire bottle of perfume, thinking it was scotch, and explaining how, that same night, he’d done the walk of shame across campus in nothing but a pair of high-tops and Fruit of the Loom tighty-whiteys, but hey, all things considered, there were much worse confessions he could’ve made in the name of science.

Bruce, to his credit, didn’t seem the least bit fazed by any of it.

And anyway, it was all for a good cause, because by the end of that highly embarrassing and surprisingly detailed story, Tony had discovered a few loopholes in the truth serum’s abilities. Sure, it wasn’t much, but they were all he had so far, and he planned on taking advantage of them as best he could while it slowly but surely wore off.

First, he could still state an opinion if he fully believed it was true. _Bruce, you’re the strongest Avenger on the team_ , he’d said with ease. _Steve’s way out of my league._ Die Hard _is one hundred percent a Christmas movie._

Second, he could sidestep a question if it was exceptionally vague. Answers that hinged on the truth being a technicality seemed to pass the test, and Tony was a bit shocked to find that he could reply to _well, what kind of questions do you want me to ask?_ with _good ones_ , _preferably_ , without much of a problem.

Third, and most importantly, Tony didn’t _have to_ talk, not if he wasn’t actually being asked anything. His urge to reveal every single thought and feeling was about as strong and relentless as a tidal pull, but if the other person was taking on the brunt of the conversation themselves, he could breeze through it without sharing anything he didn’t want to, so long as he was focused on biting his tongue.

The serum, he supposed, was intended for interrogations, not casual conversations.

Still, even with all this new knowledge, all these tricks he could use, being under the spell of a truth serum wasn’t exactly a delight, and the sooner he could be rid of it, the better — the safer. Not just for Tony, but for everyone involved.

“Let’s just call it a night,” Bruce suggested, around a yawn. “There’s nothing we can do about Steve until Thor gives us an update, and you can sleep off the next couple hours. How long did Scott say this would last? A day?”

“Or three. No one’s ever taken this many doses before, he doesn’t know for sure.”

Bruce considered that, and as he passed by Tony on the way to the automatic doors of the lab, gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “You should get some rest, you look like you need it.”

And even though Tony knew that Bruce was right, he couldn’t help but feel oddly nervous at the mere thought of being in the same room as Steve while under the influence of the truth serum, despite having spent the past hour learning to control its effects to the best of his abilities. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Steve, no, not at all. On the contrary, Tony didn’t know if he could trust _himself_ — if he could play it cool without giving away everything he’d worked so hard to plan, if he could take one look at his boyfriend and avoid turning into a bumbling, lovesick idiot.

That said, Tony didn’t have too many alternatives, and it took one glance at the lumpy, worn-down couch in the corner of the room—and the feeling of a phantom backache from the last time he’d crashed down here—for him to decide to risk it. Sleeping was an easy way to waste away the next couple hours anyway, without having to fret about anyone, either intentionally or otherwise, taking advantage of the truth serum. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he finally decided, following Bruce out of the lab and into the elevator, the lights automatically turning off behind them, monitors shutting down, and holographs slowly flickering away.

  
***

It was a little after midnight and there was just enough moonlight in the bedroom for Tony to avoid accidentally stubbing his toe on the corner of the footboard as he carefully approached the mattress. Steve was lying on his side, facing the window, the sheets rising and falling steadily with each breath, and it still startled Tony, seeing him like this, feeling knobby elbows and cold feet as he slipped into bed beside Steve, instead of firm muscle and an almost sweltering warmth. He was wearing one of Tony’s old MIT sweatshirts, pretty much swimming in the fabric, and when Tony tucked himself against his boyfriend, his chest pressing against the curve of Steve’s spine, his arm draped over Steve’s middle, he just felt so small, so fragile, in Tony’s hold.

There was one thing that hadn’t changed, despite Steve’s new size: they still fit perfectly together. It didn’t matter so much who was the big spoon or the little one, who was taller or stronger or heavier, when Tony tucked his nose against the nape of Steve’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo, it felt the same.

It felt like home.

Any hope that Tony had of sneaking into bed unnoticed vanished in the next instant, as Steve murmured, “I didn’t think you’d come up tonight.”

“Needed a break, otherwise I’d collapse from exhaustion,” Tony explained, pressing a soft kiss to the spot just behind Steve’s ear, in apology. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no, you didn’t, it’s okay. I couldn’t sleep.” A moment passed, but just when Tony was about to speak up again, Steve beat him to it, adding, “Bruce texted me earlier. He, uh, told me about the truth serum, kept me updated while you guys were running tests.”

Tony had been hoping to let it through pass his system without any mention to Steve, not wanting him to worry too much, especially when he had enough of his own problems to deal with at the moment. But, now that he was thinking about it, maybe it was better this way. He’d learned pretty early on in their relationship that there wasn’t much he could hide from Steve anyway, and since he’d already reached that quota of secrets until he actually, eventually proposed, it wouldn’t hurt to have Steve be a little more cautious about what he said around Tony in the meantime.

“According to Scott, it should wear off in the next couple days, at most. Not too sure if I fully trust that intel, but it’s all I’ve got, so I’m hoping it’s true,” Tony told him. “But until then, I—”

“I know. I won’t ask any questions, and I’ll try not to veer the conversation into topics that you might not want to talk about. I mean, obviously, I do really want to ask if you’re okay. But I won’t.”

Tony smiled against Steve’s skin. He took the hint. “I’ve been better,” he said, surprised by how easily the words came out, considering that was his go-to response whenever someone asked. He supposed they did ring true, though. “I don’t feel any different. A bit more anxious than usual, maybe, that I’ll say something stupid or embarrassing or something I didn’t mean to. It’s weird, actually having to think before I speak.”

“First time for everything, hm?”

“Funny,” Tony said, going for dry instead of fond but missing the mark considerably. “Oh. Huh. Guess that means it really was.”

Steve huffed out a small laugh as he shifted in Tony’s arms, turning around so they could face each other. His eyes were still the same, the rich blue easy to get lost in, as Tony so often did, and so was his smile, though it faltered ever-so-slightly as their gazes finally met.

Tony hummed, knowing and sympathetic, and reached up to cup Steve’s cheek, thumb sweeping over the apple of it. “Hey, what’s up? You okay?” he asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea of what Steve’s answer was likely to be. He hadn’t been taking it too well, the transformation back into his pre-serum body, though it wasn't hard to understand why — Tony couldn’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, all of Steve’s old ailments flooding back, all of his insecurities and self-deprecations. He’d been benched until they could find a way to get reverse the spell, and that was the biggest kick in the teeth of all, Steve had admitted the first night after that battle, feeling so small and worthless, especially next to all these extraordinary people who could do extraordinary things.

Tony had spent the past few days since the incident trying to convince him otherwise, but no Asgardian magic trick could quell Steve’s stubbornness.

He forced the smile back to his face, but this time it was softer, sadder, slightly more brittle around the edges. “Yeah,” he assured, waving it off. Steve already wasn’t a good liar as it was, but now he didn’t even seem to be trying. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“C’mon, if I have to be honest for the next little while, I think it’s only fair that you are too.”

Steve heaved out a sigh, looking away for a moment as he collected his thoughts, and when he finally turned back to Tony, jaw stiff and determined, he said, “There’s something I have to tell you. I know this isn’t really—” he gestured helplessly in the small space between their bodies “—the best timing, with everything that happened to you today, but… I’ve been working up to it all day, so just, please, listen. You don’t have to say anything, I just need to get it out.”

Tony nodded, though his brows furrowed slightly in concern, lips curling into a small frown. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t push, didn’t ask; he just let Steve take a minute to summon his courage and speak at his own pace.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what would happen if I don’t get the serum back,” he started. “If I’m just… this. For the rest of my life.”

Tony knew he shouldn’t interrupt when Steve was baring his soul to him like this, but he couldn’t help saying, “Hey, listen, Thor hasn’t found Loki yet, but he’s got a pretty good lead on where he might be. Said he’ll probably drag him down to Midgard by the end of the week, and you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“No, I don’t,” Tony conceded. “But I trust Thor. I trust him to set this straight. And if he can’t, I trust myself and Bruce to make up the difference, with his help.”

Steve tucked his face against Tony’s neck, warm breath on his throat as he chided, without any real heat, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being an optimist,” he murmured. “Makes it harder to say all of this.”

Tony pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, brushing his knuckles lightly against his boyfriend’s cheek. “Sorry. I mean, I was being honest, I have faith in this to work out, but— Say your piece, I’m listening.”

When Steve finally pulled away enough to actually look Tony in the eyes, he expression was so somber, so serious, that Tony half-expected to hear that his medical conditions were catching up to him and he only had a week to live.

What he absolutely _hadn’t_ expected and probably never would’ve in a million years, was for Steve to sigh, resigned and defeated, and tell him, “I’d understand, y’know. If you want to leave me, I’d get it.”

Tony was so floored by the statement that, for the first time in a long time, he was rendered absolutely speechless. Steve must’ve taken his silence as a cue to continue, or, even worse, _actual contemplation_ , because he went on to say, “It’s not that I don’t believe in Thor or you or Bruce, it’s just that… It’s been almost a week, and nothing’s changed — and there’s a very real possibility that it might not, ever. I might be stuck like this. And I’ve been thinking about what that’ll mean. For the team. For us.”

“I— What?” Tony only just managed to get out, still a bit dazed by the turn this conversation had taken. “What are you—?”

Steve probably figured that since he’d come this far already, he might as well get it all out when he still had the chance, barrelling on. “If I don’t have the serum, if I can’t be Captain America, I’m useless. I wouldn’t be able to lead the team anymore — not just in battle, but during training sessions or debriefings, all of it, it’ll be gone,” he said softly, voice breaking at the last word, and Tony’s heart breaking along with it. “I mean, c’mon, what good am I, if I can’t fight? I’ll be tiny and weak and _sick_ and— And I don’t want you to have to take care of me, Tony. You’re already so busy doing so many amazing, wonderful, impossible things, and I’d just keep you from all that. I’d be a burden, don’t say I wouldn’t. And you just, you deserve so much better than that.”

“Oh, honey.” Tony didn’t know what to do except pull his boyfriend even closer, gently carding a hand through his hair as he just held him for a moment, pressing featherlight kisses to Steve’s face: his cheeks, his nose, over each closed eyelid as Steve tried fruitlessly to will away the tears already gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I promise, I’m not leaving you, and definitely not over something like this. You should know by now, I’m in this for the long haul.” Tentatively, he added, “Steve, sweetheart, can you look at me? Please? I’ve got something pretty important to say too, and I need to make sure you know.”

It took a second, but finally Steve’s eyes fluttered open, redder than they’d been a minute ago. His jaw was set, his mouth pressed into a frown, and it seemed a Herculean effort to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat.

“I love you,” Tony told him, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Maybe it was. He could say it a thousand times and the words wouldn’t be any less true by the end of it; for a second there, Tony actually considered doing just that, if only to prove it to Steve. “I know I don’t say it nearly as often as I should, but I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before. No one even comes close, baby. Except for Pepper and Rhodey, but I love them in an entirely different way, so it doesn’t really count.”

That, at least, made Steve’s lip quirk upwards, even if only the tiniest bit. “I love you too.”

Tony smiled, rewarding him with a kiss. “You wouldn’t be useless, y’know. And you’re definitely not weak,” he told Steve. “I mean, sure, you can’t deadlift four hundred pounds and now neither of us can reach the top shelf in the pantry, but you’re still smart and brave and the best tactician the team could ever dream of having. Being Cap isn’t what makes you strong, Steve, and it isn’t the reason I fell in love with you, either — you were strong on your own, before any of that happened. And even now, you’re still the same in all the ways that matter.”

Steve shook his head, although Tony couldn’t quite tell if it was out of humility or insecurity. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he insisted. “God, look at you, you’re still as gorgeous as you were a week ago. Still kind and caring and sweet. Funny. _Stubborn_.”

“Tony...”

“Listen, what I’m trying to say,” Tony interjected, before Steve could follow through with whatever self-deprecating statement he was about to make, “is that I love you no matter what you look like. Whether you’re Captain America or not. No matter what happens—if you get the serum back or if you don’t—I’ll always love you, more than anything. More than work, more than being Iron Man, and god, Steve, you know how much I love being Iron Man. But I’d drop any of that for you, if you needed me to,” Tony said with a startling earnestness that was only egged on by the slightly awed and slightly flustered look on Steve’s face, by the heat of the moment, by their proximity. By the truth serum, of course, which made it so much easier to say what he really, truly felt, and let him be open, vulnerable, in a way he rarely was. “I don’t ever want you to think you’re a burden, okay? I love you. I love taking care of you.”

The affection in Steve’s gaze was so clear it was almost overwhelming, his expression full of astonishment, of wonder, like Tony had thrown a lasso around the moon and pulled it down just for him. “You’re only saying that,” he murmured, strangely shy, hesitant. Unsure.

“I couldn’t lie to you right now even if I tried,” Tony reminded him. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t already know that—and if Tony knew anything about Bruce, it was that he would’ve been thorough, careful, when relaying all of the details of the truth serum—but he could understand that hearing something and believing it were two different things.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d fully given in to all of this—committed to being an absolute sap, at least for the rest of the night—that got the ball rolling, but Tony got so swept up in his words for a moment that, without even thinking, he ended up blurting out the one thing he’d been trying so desperately to keep to himself.

“Marry me.”

Honestly, considering his track record with spontaneous declarations, this one acting as runner-up only to his televised admission to being Iron Man, Tony shouldn’t have been nearly as surprised as he was. And really, neither should Steve, given how familiar he was with his boyfriend’s theatrics.

But, even after all these years, it was nice to know that Tony could still keep him on his toes.

Steve snorted, but the laugh died on his lips a moment later as he searched Tony’s face, mouth agape and eyes wide. “Wait, I— You’re serious?” he said, propping himself up on an elbow, quick enough that the movement made the bed springs creak. “I swear to God, if you’re joking right now…”

“I’m not,” Tony rushed to assure, his mouth moving before his brain even had a chance to catch up. Once it did though, he realized he had no choice but to go through with this, extravagant proposal be damned — because, really, the only thing worse than a poorly planned proposal was taking back an accidental one. “I’ve been seriously considering this for… a couple months, at least.”

Steve, still a little bit shaky, a little bit breathless, managed a smile bright enough to give the stars a run for their money. “Really?”

“God, yeah, of course. Sometimes I just lie awake beside you, and I look over at you, drooling and snoring and hogging all the blankets, and I can’t imagine sleeping next to anyone else. Can’t imagine waking up without you,” Tony admitted. He’d had it memorized, his flowery and sentimental speech, but the more he let himself ramble on, the more of it disappeared, and all he could do was speak from the heart and pray that he didn’t fumble over his words. “Before I met you, I never wanted anything like this. A real relationship, a family, white-picket fence, all of it. But now… Every time someone asks me where I want to be in five years, ten, twenty, you’re always the first thing I think of. You’re my everything, Steve. My life, my future. My _home_.

“I meant it when I said that your looks aren’t what I fell in love with. Don’t get me wrong, they’re a definite bonus, but they’re not what’s important. What I really, truly love about you is how you make me laugh, how you know exactly what to say after I’ve had a long day. How you take care of me. I love it when you sing in the shower and play footsie with me under the conference table during briefings and talk to the bots like they’re human when you come down to the lab. You make me so damn happy, sweetheart, and more than that, you make me a better person. At least I think so. I hope so. In any case, it’s not an easy thing to do, but you make it seem so simple.

“Sometimes I think you don’t see just how amazing you really are, but, if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life showing you.”

Tony hadn’t realized how close to Steve he’d gotten until he pulled away, reaching over to feel around in his nightstand, finally coming up with the sleek metal band he’d hidden in between the pages of an engineering journal. He hadn’t managed to find a box for it yet, and as he turned the ring over in his hand a couple times, the moonlight caught the silver, Steve’s gaze tracking it intently. Tony shifted into more of a sitting position, holding out the ring and willing his hand not to shake with nerves.

“Steve,” he said softly. “Will you marry me?”

By the way he let out a quiet gasp in response, Tony thought that his boyfriend was just dumbfounded by the gesture, overwhelmed even, until Steve’s breath hitched in a funny way and Tony realized it was because he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh. Oh, god, okay, just— I’ll be right back,” he said, belatedly, as he nearly tripped over himself in his haste to fetch an inhaler from the ensuite bathroom. He settled back down beside Steve, one hand holding the inhaler in front of his face as he took a big puff, the other rubbing soothingly over his boyfriend’s back. “Hey, it’s okay, deep breaths, in and out.”

Steve nodded, breathing in time with Tony. It took a moment before he finally said, “Sorry, that— That hasn’t happened in a long time.”

Tony laughed, sheepishly, heart racing and palms starting to sweat as he realized Steve hadn’t given him an answer yet, and his anxiety translated into rambling. “Yeah, no, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to spring it on you like this. And, um. I’m not sure whether I should take the asthma attack as a good sign or a bad one,” he joked lightly, not knowing what to do with the ring, still in his grasp. “Uh, originally, I wanted to do something more… impressive. Something grand. And I was going to rent out a restaurant or fly you out to a private island, so, _this_ , in comparison, I know, is kinda underwhelming—”

“This is perfect,” Steve cut in, with that million-watt smile of his. “God, Tony, _you’re_ perfect.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, grinning even as he leaned in to steal a kiss, their noses bumping and teeth clashing, laughing into each other’s mouths. “Yeah? It wasn’t too corny, was it? I had this whole romantic speech written out, but I couldn’t remember it for the life of me.”

“Sweetheart, anything more romantic than that and you might’ve actually killed me,” Steve teased, cupping Tony’s face between his hands. He pressed a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Ask me again. I’ll try not to let you take my breath away this time — at least, not so literally.”

“Okay, _that_ was corny, for sure.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, lightly smacking Tony’s shoulder. “Oh, c’mon, let me have my moment.”

Tony shook his head fondly, his smile only growing as he held up the ring once more. “Steven Grant Rogers, will you marry me?”

“ _Of course_ I’ll marry you,” Steve answered, throwing his arms around Tony and pulling him close. “What kind of ridiculous question—”

But before Steve could even finish his sentence, Tony shut him up with a loud, smacking kiss, all but tackling him to the mattress. They rolled back onto their sides, laughing and nuzzling their noses together, stealing kisses wherever they could reach, pulling away only enough for Tony to slip the ring onto Steve’s finger.

“How does it feel? We can get it resized, if it’s not snug enough.”

“No, no, it’s good. It feels… right.” Steve tore his adoring gaze away from the ring, to glance over at Tony instead. “I love it,” he murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Tony said, taking Steve’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers together. The cool metal brushed against his skin and a shiver of delight ran down Tony’s spine at the thought of wearing a matching band, of showing off to the world that they belonged to each other. “Steve,” he breathed, dizzy with excitement, affection, with the almost intoxicating truth rolling so smoothly off his tongue. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  
***

“Are you sure about this?” Scott asked for the third time in as many minutes, pulling the two vials away from Tony’s reach. He’d only been an ordained minister for about a week now, but he was taking this wedding more seriously than— Well, than anything he did, really.

Tony plucked them both out of Scott’s loose grip, handing one of the vials over to Steve. “Positive,” he assured, though his answer might’ve been undermined by the long pause that immediately followed. He glanced at the familiar amber liquid, then back to Scott. “This is the correct dose, right? I mean, I do love a good party, but… just this once, I don’t want it to get _too_ out of hand.”

“It’s watered down, it’ll last half an hour, max. And if it doesn’t, blame Banner, he’s the one who told me that.”

Steve ran a hand down Tony’s sleeve, smoothing out his jacket. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” he said, with that soft little smile that Tony had first fallen in love with. “Whatever you say up there, I’ll believe you anyway, you know that.”

Tony caught Steve’s hand, raising it to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I know, I know, but… I want this. Anybody can _say_ ‘I do,’ that’s the easy part; it takes a lot more to actually _mean_ it.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Steve said, biting his lip. “The ceremony hasn’t even started and you’re already gonna make me tear up.”

“Well, I hope you brought tissues, because if _that_ got to you, I’m pretty sure my actual vows are going to make you weep,” he teased, earning a snort of laughter for his efforts. He held up the truth serum, and with one last considering look, asked, “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Tony grinned, clinking their vials together. “Bottoms up, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays!


End file.
